


She Was Everything You Wanted

by agonothymicInsomniac



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/F, One Shot, lots of bitch moves happening, theres ballroom dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 00:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5269295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agonothymicInsomniac/pseuds/agonothymicInsomniac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The cool breeze of a summer night.<br/>The colorful banners, distant lights.<br/>The shaking of anxious fingertips,<br/>And beautiful, strong, sunshine lips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Was Everything You Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> As always, enjoy!

Leona ran the fine comb through her hair, making absolutely sure there were no knots left in it whatsoever. As Chosen of the Sun, she was required to attend tonight’s masquerade on the final night of the Solstice Festival. Her bare body, fresh from the bath, glistened in the moonlight. You, the Scorn of the Moon, watched from the bushes outside her manor before turning away, face flushed.

Her figure was no longer for your eyes to linger upon. And yet…

Your eyes couldn’t stay away. You watched as a handmaiden sent to assist her took her shapely arm and began to dry it. Soon, another joined and began weaving intricate patterns into her hair. You scoffed a little at that, knowing how much your former lover would hate even you pampering her, much less others. You then remind yourself that it’s been years and she probably enjoys it now--that her circumstance has made her pompous. Your circumstance, however, has made you everything but.

Leona’s maid grabbed a cloth and a bottle of perfume and began to dab the scent across the Chosen’s form. You felt a pang of jealousy at how carelessly she did it. Who should dare touch her besides yourself? It should have been your hands that dipped into the curve of her neck, the inside of her wrist, between her legs. It would have been you, if not for your damned pride.

Half her hair was a cascade of orange sprawling down her back, and the other half was in braids pinned around her head. It framed her features elegantly, but if Leona was pleased she refused to show it. Her face had become stoic, and you suspected perhaps she didn’t really want to be there. You vaguely remember back to when you both were young and foolish. How every festival, without fail, you would convince her to sneak away with you. You wondered if you would be able to again, one last time.

Finally, the gown was brought to her. It was perhaps what you would describe as the color of a dark sunset, and the gradient made it seem just so. The gown was traditional, tailored to be elegant without being overtly formal. It hugged her in all the right places, and made her look as appealing as she was formidable. The finishing touch was a golden circlet, adorned with a gem that resembled the likeness of the sun, and you thought of the own seal on your forehead. The one that would condemn you as a heretic for all your days.

Leona sent her handmaidens away swiftly, and looked in her mirror. You soon realized she was practicing her faces for the crowd, and wondered if her life had become some kind of cruel, repeating act. Once she seemed sure of herself, she walked over to an elaborate chest, taking a series of belts from it. She hiked up the thin dress, then began to strap them on. They had small pouches, and you caught a glimpse of a dagger. She was arming herself. You wondered from which threat, but quickly realized she might be protecting herself from you.

There was no time to waste. She began to exit her room, and you finally pried your eyes away, disappearing into the dark to set up your plan.

___________________________________

Finding how to sit when the cold brass of the dagger’s sheath was pressed against your leg was more than a little uncomfortable. Much more comfortable than being unarmed, of course, but still... You watched your followers from a throne atop a number of rounded stairs, just as you know they watched you through their masks. Letting out the smallest of sighs, you motioned Pantheon, your long-time friend and guard for the night, to come over.

 

“Yes, Chosen?”

“Leona,” you corrected, without missing a beat.

Pantheon nodded, appeased. He had always been the one to ask permission than to use your name immediately. as his higher-ups seemed to be dissecting his every move. Even now his actions were stiff, much too formal for your tastes.

“Leona?”

“How much longer am I to endure these proceedings?” you asked, trying not to look displeased. 

There were onlookers, some with the ever-most watchful eyes. You were the only one not to wear a mask, and to have you, Their Chosen One, looking anything but perfect and content would be preposterous.

“They have yet to call for a dance,” he said. You looked unto the crowd, and although many were cavorting merrily to the tunes being played by the small band, it was horribly uncoordinated.

“Do I have the authority to move this along?” you asked, sipping from your goblet of wine.

“I’d assume so.”

“Well then,” you said promptly, and handed him the cup, “Let’s get on with it.” 

 

You stood then, stepping out from your golden throne. All conversations were quickly silenced, and you found dozens of eyes upon you. You smiled at all of them.

“Friends, Solari, countrymen,” you began, embellishing your actions, flicking your wrists just so as if to reach out to everyone. “It is my privilege and pleasure you welcome you to the festivities. To be here is a great honor for I just as well as you.” They clung to your every word. Flattery, you thought, was almost too easy. “In light of tonight, I would like to extend an invitation to dance.” Clamors of excitement broke out, but were quickly silenced. You chuckled, looking to the band, “Tell us, companions, what tune shall we dance to?”

The musicians spoke amongst themselves for a moment before turning back to you, “ _The Ballad of the Sun_ , in honor of you m’lady.”

You chuckled, “A fine choice.” You heard them readying their sheet music as everyone got in formation to dance with their chosen partner.

 

You would have gone back to sit down. You should have. But across the room, your eyes met those of another. She wore a plain, dark tunic with equally colored trousers and leggings, and mask that covered all her face but her nose and lips.

You watched as she approached you, and the world around you went silent. Her lips moved in the fashion of a question you did not hear, but she extended a bow to you. She was asking for a dance then. You extended your hand in return, and she took it.

She did not hesitate, though it would seem so from the outside. Rather, she deliberately moved slowly, as if the searing kiss she placed on your knuckle was strategic. And it was.

The moment you recognized whose lips they were, you wanted to scream.

All too soon, her arm circled around you, and a hand rested gently on the small of your back. You were trapped, and you damned yourself for being so, so stupid.

___________________________________

You felt Leona squirm under your touch. You looked into her eyes, which gave the expression of the fiercest hate. Yet she didn’t call for help immediately, nor did she signal Pantheon. You took it as a good sign.

The song began, and you struggled to remember the dance you had been taught as a budding adolescent. Thankfully, Leona remembered perfectly, so it was not hard to get back into. During a turn where you passed particularly close, you heard her voice in the lowest of whispers.

 

“I did not expect to see you this evening, Diana. I don’t quite remember you being invited, either.”

You smirked, feeding off of her agony. “Didn’t you, though? You’re armed, under that dress.”

Leona’s face twisted in rage at your arrogance.

“Can’t pull that pretty little dagger on the one who gave it to you?” you asked, matter-of-factly.

Your hands parted as you whipped around in place, flourishing, before they came back together. When you saw her face again, her expression had went back to neutrality.

“No. I cannot.”

 

The crowd around you shifted, and it was only then you realized that you and Leona were in the center of the ballroom. All eyes were on you, and you desperately wished their ears were elsewhere. Leona read you like a book, and her eyes flashed with determination. She pulled you closer than you’d prefer, taking the dominant position of the dance from you.

“What about you, Diana?” she asked, and you looked around in a panic, fearing that someone overhear your name. “You act so high and mighty and yet you’ve put yourself in such a vulnerable position.” You held your breath as she tortured you with her words.

She continued. “How is it to be here, _heretic_ , when you know that in a single word I could have every guard at your throat?” Her nails dug into the back of your tunic uncomfortably. People around you sped up to keep with the music, so you did as well.

“Gods, Leona, what the fuck do you want from me?” you seethed.

“I want to know why you’re here.”

The world was spinning around you. You took a moment to recollect your thoughts, “Why I’m here? You want to know?” You disrupted the movements Leona had been making with her feet, and forced her to follow your lead instead.

 

Leona refused to look at you, her silent protest against you as the world became blurrier the faster you moved around each other. Loose locks of her hair flew around wildly and caught in her lips, the circlet she was wearing shone endlessly in the light of the chandelier overhead, and her dress lagged ever-so-slightly behind her turns. The crowd mattered not to you anymore, only she did. Only this one dance that should have been meaningless, but was filled with the intensity of works left unsaid.

When you stopped suddenly to dip her, the final move, you found that all had abandoned the dance floor in favor of watching you and Leona. You found her body leaned a little too far into your arm to be accidental, and you found your lips too close to the flesh of her neck. You held that position, and finally gave her the answer, in the lowest of whispers.

 

“Somehow, I always knew it would come down to this. That I would be sworn to kill you, as I now am. The way your eyes shone then, just as they do now, with the most beautiful color of gold. The color of the sun. You were lost to me from the beginning, and I always knew. Was it so bad to long to see you once more?”

 

Leona answered you by taking your mask off, exposing the dreaded mark on your forehead.

___________________________________

Diana looked at you as though you had doomed her. Which, come to think of it, is exactly what you did. She let you fall from the dip, and you meekly crumpled to the floor. She looked around at the crowd, at everyone whose faces expressed complete and utter terror.

Pantheon quickly intervened, rushing to put himself between you and Diana. He shoved her further away from you, and you could not will your limbs to move. Diana, being forced out of her stupor, reached into her clothing to pull out a dagger, identical to your own were it not for the fact the hilt had a sun embellished into it instead of a moon. The crowd gasped, but Pantheon simply let out a chuckle.

 

“Heretic,” he started, as a group of guards clamored into the ballroom, “you think you can defeat me with nothing but a toothpick?”

You felt yourself being dragged away from Diana by the other guards, and made fleeting eye contact with her. She instantly turned back to Pantheon as she was, after all, playing the defense.

Diana scoffed, “You think you need a troop of guards to catch me? I’m flattered.”

“You think you have the right to joke, after the pain you caused all our lives?”

“You do nothing but speak of the pain I cause,” she spat, “all while ignoring the pain the Solari have brought upon the entire _history_ of this wretched place!”

 

You watched what seemed a thousand (though realistically, there were perhaps six at most) brandished spears direct their tips at this villain, and pondered if this was truly the end. There would be no more troubles, no more living in fear of your life, no more of the people worrying for theirs. You wouldn’t only be exalted as the Chosen, but as a hero. Everything in your mind was telling you this was right, this was justice at work….yet the pain in your chest was overwhelming.

“Cease,” you said weakly, attempting to pick yourself up off the ground. Strangers came to your aid, and you leaned on one of them for support. No one seemed to hear. You had time to rethink this.

You watched Pantheon draw back his spear as two soldiers moved to hold Diana in place. The crowd began to go wild, some yelling obscenities and others simply screaming for the man to get on with it. Diana struggled as her arms were twisted ruthlessly behind her back, and her pleads of mercy fell on deaf ears.

“You die here! Now!” Pantheon yelled, his knuckles white from the iron grip on his weapon.

“CEASE!” you screamed, voice cracking, going so far as to extend a hand to Pantheon, to the skies, to whatever gods might be out there. The room became as quiet as the grave. Quiet enough for you to realize the sobs that were wracking your body. Quiet enough that everyone could hear you crying for this monster.

 

No… No… she wasn’t a monster… she was--

 

“Chosen?” asked one of the soldiers. It was enough to pull you from your thoughts.

“This… This is over,” you stated, gathering yourself. Stand taller, Leona. Speak louder. “Everyone, leave this place immediately. You will be shown the way.” You motioned two guards to lead the people out, although there were more than a few displeased with your decision.. You watched your people go in confusion, and found yourself jealous of them--thought them lucky for not being granted this cursed responsibility.

“And what shall we do with her?” Pantheon asked, cocking his head at Diana.

“Seize her,” you thought, picking your actions carefully. “Seize her, and put her in the dungeon. I shall decide further at a later time, but for now…” You waved your hand and they were off, but you left them with a warning.

 

“If I find a single hair on her head harmed, you’ll pay with your life.”

___________________________________

The next time you returned fully to yourself, you were on the floor of a cold, dank cell. You supposed it was better than being dead, but in reality unless some divine intervention came through for you again, your death was simply prolonged. After listening to an incessant trickle that came from outside your cell, you fumbled around in the darkness, feeling your way around where you’d be staying that night. When you found a bed of straw, you collapsed.

 

“...ana?”

You felt a heavy prodding on your shoulder, and loathed to open your eyes. You did it anyways, and although you couldn’t see the details of the person in front of you, you knew it was Leona.

“Diana?”

Instead of saying anything, you simply pushed her hand away. You didn’t know how long you had been asleep, but it was still dark outside so you settled for not very. She sighed and sat down next to you on the stone floor, her back turned to you. You looked up at her and, despite her actions tonight, you felt bad for her. She looked exhausted, her once-perfect dress wrinkled and dirtied from having to deal with the aftermath and trudging through the dungeon.

“I got your dagger back,” she stated, placing the custom piece next to you. After that, she stopped talking simply to fill the silence.

 

You couldn’t have been more confused if you wanted to. Why would Leona put you in a life-threatening situation and, in a matter of minutes, turn it around? It was the dragon in the room, so to speak, and the question hung in the air although it had not been verbalized.

Leona seemed to recognize this. “I don’t know why I did it. I-I thought it would be easier, watching you die. I thought it would fix everything.”

You thought of the ballroom again, how you--along with all of her people--had heard her sobbing. For you! Even now, her chest heaved, tears threatening to fall once again. Even the sun had her dark days. You found yourself biting your lips, biting back your own emotions. And then you did the unthinkable.

From your reclined position on the straw cot, you turned to face her and circled your arms around her waist. You hugged her, breathing in her familiar scent deeply. She placed a hand over your own, intertwined your fingers, and sighed.

 

“It’s not too late,” you lamented, burying your face in her back. She turned around to face you, taking your head into her lap. “Leona, you have the power to change everything.”

She chuckled, sadly, and ran her fingers through your hair, “I wish that were true.” In the darkness, her tears fell on your face.

“So it will be a fight… to the death.”

“Someday, yes.”

 

You reached out for her face and found it easily. You gently slid your thumb over her lips before slowly pulling her down into a kiss. She reciprocated, but began to pull away much too soon.

"We shouldn't," Leona whispered, and you tried to ignore the warm breath caressing your skin. It was more of a formality than anything, and she didn’t protest when you led her to your lips for a second time. The _‘mmhm’_ she let out as your tongues intertwined echoed in the small cell and before you knew it she was over you, pinning you to the cot, the thin outer layer of her dress getting caught and torn on the fine needles of hay.

"We should enjoy the time we have left, before we both have to face the challenge of killing the one we love the most," you whispered, and let the sun overpower you.

___________________________________

Back in your estate, finally out of that wretched dress (although not for the first time that night), you sat in front of your looking glass with a washbowl, cleansing your face of all traces of that night. You took off your ruined make-up as well as some of Diana’s, you lifted some of the dirt on your face which you supposed had been picked up in the cell.

You contemplated what you had just done.

 

_Diana had held your naked form to hers, and whispered sweet words you had instantly forgotten in your hysterical tears. She convinced you to finally get dressed and to leave her, but you weren’t quite done._

_Moments before you stepped out of the cell, however, you turned around._

“Come with me if you want to live, Diana…” _you had said, and held out your hand. She hesitated for a moment, but took it anyways, as delicately as she had moments before the dance._

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

_You had led her through the dark hallways of the dungeon, evading the guards just barely. Thank the gods you knew which ones were inclined to sleep on their shift. Before you knew it, you found yourselves in the courtyard of the brisk early morning. You felt Diana’s hand slip away from yours and you missed the heat._

_She did turn back to face you, one last time, and caressed your cheek. You closed your eyes and leaned into the contact, leaned in for one last kiss. But it didn’t come._

_You opened your eyes to look out at the pavement, and she was gone without a trace. After the initial disappointment, you had returned to your room._

 

So now here you were, looking into the mirror at the face of someone you no longer knew. You stood up and examined your body. You traced over the marks Diana left on your neck. You counted every scratch her nails had left on your back.

You stood there, convincing yourself that these were the sole things left of the woman you loved.

Disappearing behind the curtains of your bed, you found little solace in sleep, however, and only one thought ran through your mind:

 

Diana, the Diana you had loved, was dead.

 

You could no longer ignore the fact you’d have to face her eventually. And that on that fateful date, one of you would die. Your days were numbered.

The sun rose outside, at last, and cast beautiful rays of light over your room. The dagger on your nightstand reflected the beam uncomfortably into your eye, and you reached over to move it so you could peacefully rest. You found that your hand felt not one, but two daggers, and laughed incredulously.

Of course. Why would she take it? The very things that had been crafted specifically for your respective hands, with the opposite symbols in their golden hilts: that of a Sun and a Moon. A sad reminder of your forlorn love. And even after everything that had happened with the elders, even after tonight, you resigned yourself to the fact that, yes...

She was everything you wanted.

And yet she was everything you couldn’t have.

**Author's Note:**

> I love writing fantasy/medieval stuff, guys. Especially in a ballroom setting, muahahahaha. As always thank yous go out to Jeyda (for editing) and Tammie (for moral support).  
> Not really much to say about this one!


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